I Remember
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Those who think Ciel does not remember the happy times with his family are idiots. He always remembers.


They think I don't remember a life before my family passed on. They think I boxed up all those happy times and buried them somewhere in the closet of my mind, never opening that door again. But they don't know anything.

I remember.

I remember the holiday season when Mother and Father would decorate the tree alongside me, preparing for Father Christmas. I remember the way Mother smiled at me and let me put the topper on the tree. I recall my father in his study, working, and how he would stop if I asked him to play a game with me, and the way he used to run his large hand through my hair, and how safe it made me feel.

I can remember the days when my life seemed a never-ending stream of happiness. When smiles were constant, joy was present, and problems were few. I remember what it felt like to be a child, to be safe, warm, cared for, and loved. I can remember what it felt like to have everything, and to never be without, and to live in the moment, without always having to think about what was happening later.

I remember being safe and warm as my parents tucked me into bed for the night, and how whenever I was afraid, I would climb into bed with my parents, and find comfort sleeping between them. They were a fortress that kept the world away, and the joy in.

But all fortresses crumble at some point, and they were no exception.

The fire took them from me, and the people who bought me and marked me took my childhood along with them. It was there that I formed my contract with Sebastian, and where I began my quest for revenge. Everyone thinks that I have buried those happy memories beneath a red-hot desire for vengeance. But they're wrong. I remember those happy moments with my family every day. They keep my need for vengeance fueled, and my sense of purpose strong. Those memories strengthen my cause. I know what I am fighting for, and why. Were it not for those memories, I likely would have been dead by now.

My happy memories are a double-edged sword. The same memories that fuel my vengeance cause me great pain and grief. I do not believe in wallowing in self-pity. I have never been able to see what good it would do to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I much prefer to _do _something. But from time to time, I do give into my sorrow. When the happy memories become too much, and the grief comes from behind me and sinks it's claws into me in the dead of night, I stare at the ring my father once wore so proudly that now rests on my thumb, and I weep. The ring that saw his death, that will someday see mine, is all that I have left besides those memories. If it weren't for this ring, I can't help but ponder if I'd wonder if they were real. Then, I catch myself. Of course they were, or else I would not be so devastated by losing them.

Sebastian stays away from me during those times, though I know he knows what is happening. He is connected to me in ways I cannot adequately explain. There are moments in the night sometimes when I weep that I can practically feel his presence on the other side of my door. Those are the few times when I force myself to stop crying and sleep. The sounds of the screams of my family in the fire often lull me to sleep, because their screams are all I have left of their voices in my mind once the happy memories have been exhausted. I don't mind the screams anymore. It's better that they're there than gone. They can drown out my melancholic thoughts better than anything else.

When I wake in the morning, I am back to my senses, but a voice in the back of my mind reminds me that every moment is a moment closer to the next time my grief consumes me. It's as though I'm on a carriage ride and I can't get off. The only time I will get off this carriage ride is when my revenge is complete, and my soul is tucked safely away inside of Sebastian. Even though there are times I want to get off of this ride, I don't regret what I've done. For all I stand to lose, the knowledge that I will gain revenge on those whom have destroyed the ones I held so dear brings me comfort. Even when Sebastian takes my soul, I know that I can rest easily, for my work is complete.

Death leaves a mark on you that cannot be seen in the same way as a brand. It changes everything. The way you think, the way you feel, the way you function. There is no _living _after death. There is only _surviving. _When death takes what you love most into it's grip it does not let go, and you must deal with it. But dealing with it does not mean at all that you are who you were before it touched you. Death didn't just take my family, it took my home, my childhood, my innocence, and my joy. I cannot get back what was taken from me, but I won't stop fighting to make sure those who took it pay dearly. I will not rest until every sorrowful moment from their death onwards is avenged, and I can finally know that my parents and less importantly myself have been avenged. I do not fear my own death so much as I have feared theirs, even after they have been gone all this time.

Those who think I don't remember the happier times in my life know nothing.

I _always _remember. And it's why I cannot let go.


End file.
